Double Helix

chapter eighteen
~ angelic ~

A whisper of movement caught his eye, bringing him to full wakefulness. His breath caught in throat as he waited for the motion to repeat itself. Eyes and ears strained, Vash could detect nothing but the oppressive stillness.

Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair. It was then that the flutter repeated itself, this time a bit more pronounced. He paused, his fingers still tangled in his hair as he stared hard at the glass.

Nothing.

Perhaps the unusual environment of the core and the emotional strain were causing him to see things. After all, it was hard to detect any detail in the blandness surrounding him. He felt like he existed within a void.

Knives made it that way on purpose. His goal was to keep Vash ignorant of his environment in an attempt to maintain more control over him.

The lack of visual depth and contrast between the opaque and the transparent lead to the illusion that his surroundings had no end. Vash didn't need to see with his eyes to recognize the illusion for what it was. Instinct told him where his boundaries were. With that basis of knowledge, Vash knew he could devise his escape. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could see small flashes of detail. Those flashes were like puzzle pieces in his mind and he knew that he would eventually have enough pieces to form a complete picture. His only problem was his inability to focus his mind in order to arrange the picture at a faster pace.

Vash drifted toward the boundary where he thought he saw the flutter of movement. Eyes narrowed, he studied the bleakness. Fingers pressed against the glass and a current of electricity shivered up his arm. Vash trembled.

Someone was there. He was certain of it. Someone was watching him just beyond his normal perceptions.

Heart pounding, Vash pushed with his mind, willing his innate abilities to sense what he could not see. Lips pressed together in a tight line as he tried to focus, pushing his intuition.

Nothing.

Vash pushed harder, his pulse hammering in his ears as the seconds ticked by.

Still, nothing.

Only streaks of shadow and light filled his mind, a reflection of the environment surrounding him. Sighing deeply, Vash pressed his forehead against the glass. The electricity made his skin tingle in an almost pleasant fashion.

'The solitude must be getting to me,' he thought.

A tiny smirk played with his mouth as his eyes blinked sleepily.

'Or perhaps it's the narcotics Knives is forcing me to breathe in here...'

A slender finger pressed against the glass, causing green eyes to widen in shock. Muscles froze in place as Vash watched a hand and arm slowly materialize through the haze. Then an arm appeared, followed by a neck... and finally a face.

Vash swallowed hard as he peered into the face of an Angel.

"H- hello," he whispered.

She tilted her head to one side, watching him with an unreadable expression.

Vash mentally kicked himself as he offered a friendly smile. 'Hello,' he repeated telepathically.

Silence answered him. If she heard him, she gave no indication. She simply studied him, her eyes trailing across is face and body.

Undaunted, the free-born plant continued in his attempt to communicate with the Angel. 'My name is Vash. What's yours?'

Her eyes met his and Vash was certain that she heard him. Still she would not respond and he wondered why. Was she afraid? Had Knives forbidden it? Had she been on the other side of the glass wall this entire time? Why did she wait so long to reveal herself?

'Why won't you answer me?' he asked.

She pushed back from the glass, her form gliding in the mists as her hair floated around her face. She was ethereal and beautiful, but her silence was unnerving.

'Wait!' he pleaded as he realized she meant to leave. The thought of being alone again pushed him forward and he pressed his hands against the glass, 'Please don't go!'

Expressionless eyes disappeared into the haze, leaving Vash alone once more.

• • •

"Well, she's on this weird cleaning kick now," Zazie remarked to Knives and Conrad. The three sat comfortably as they watched the nurse take Meryl's vitals from across the room. "The suite just can't be clean enough for her and she's driving me crazy."

"Sounds like she's nesting," the doctor noted. "Typical reaction."

Zazie agreed as she made a strange buzzing sound in the back of her throat. "That's what I told her and she got angry," she said. "She's been more grumpy than normal."

"Is there a reason for that?" Knives asked, his attention still focused on Meryl. "Your species can be annoying."

Zazie gave Knives a brief glare, "Her disposition has little to do with me. Besides, my job is to watch and report, not be her friend. She doesn't like that I watch and report."

The corner of Knives' lip quirked upward, "True enough."

"But," Zazie continued, "she is probably more aggravated than normal by the fact that she's having some problems sleeping through the night."

"Insomnia? Or is she just having trouble getting comfortable?" Conrad asked.

Zazie shrugged. She really didn't see what the difference was. Humans needed to sleep, she didn't. "She sleeps a little bit at a time. Two or three hours at the most, and then she's up. Lately she's been wanting to watch the suns come up so we do that."

"You're letting her go outside?" Conrad asked Knives in surprise.

"I see no reason to keep her inside all the time now that Vash is confined. Besides," Knives continued as he turned his eyes toward the doctor, "it isn't as though she has anywhere to go."

Conrad pursed his lips together and nodded curtly. The nurse began to prepare Meryl for a blood sample.

"Anything else?" Conrad asked.

Zazie sighed, "She still complains about the same things. Her chest hurts, her hips hurt, her joints hurt, she's always hungry... stuff like that. The one thing she doesn't complain about and probably should is the rash on her back."

Conrad raised a brow, "What rash?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "I only noticed it recently because she kept scratching the same spot. She said it was just a reaction to her soap, but it looks weird to me."

Conrad's expression turned concerned. "Weird how?"

"It looks kinda purple. That seems weird to me," Zazie said. "I don't know. Human skin is strange in general. Freckles and moles and callouses..."

Seeking clarification, the doctor asked, "Like a bruise?"

Zazie hesitated, "I guess, maybe. But the skin is different. Feels different."

"Meryl," Conrad called out as he stood. "Tell me about this rash on your back."

The pregnant woman turned her attention toward the doctor as he began to walk toward her, but not before throwing Zazie an angry glare.

"It's nothing," she answered simply as Conrad stood before her. The nurse's lips twitched upward when she saw Meryl's scowl, then she quickly stepped aside to allow Dr. Conrad easier access to the patient.

"Really," she insisted as Conrad began to untie her gown. "It's just an allergic reaction. I've irritated the skin because I keep scratching it so now it looks a lot worse than it is."

"Let me be the judge of that," Conrad murmured, pushing back her gown and exposing her back. He studied the angry-looking skin for several seconds and noted the unusual texture of the surrounding flesh. The rash over her right shoulder blade had a very distinct crescent shape and appeared to be a rather old irritation, while the rash over her left shoulder blade appeared to be new. It also had a somewhat crescent shape, though far less pronounced than the other. Conrad glanced up at Knives and flashed him a meaningful look before letting his fingers brush across the inflamed surface. She flinched from the contact.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

Meryl's skin crawled at the light touch. "It's sensitive," she said.

He pressed his thumb against the center of the rash over her right shoulder blade, causing Meryl to wince, "Even now?"

"Yes."

"Mmmm... has it been oozing anything?" he asked. "Bleeding?"

"A little," she admitted, voice sheepish and uncertain. "But no blood."

"Are you sure?"

"Unless I scratch too much or too hard," she said. She pulled at her gown nervously, but Conrad still would not permit her to cover herself. As Knives approached she felt her skin prickle with goosebumps. The intensity of his gaze and the downturn of his lips made her heart pound in her chest. He stood over her as he silently studied her. No one dared move or speak as his fingers brushed against her skin, circling the crescent-shaped rash before touching the inflamed flesh directly. She hissed involuntarily as a spike of pain shot through her when he pressed and Conrad muttered something under his breath.

"This is no rash," he said and she felt her stomach tighten. "I want everyone to leave."

Meryl's head shot up to peer at Knives who was looking from person to person with an expectant look. When they failed to move, he ground out the command again, "I said leave."

The sound of shuffling feet and the door swinging shut echoed in Meryl's ears as she hugged herself, a sense of foreboding filling her mind. Without the presence of everyone else, she suddenly felt frightened. She recognized that her fear was not directed specifically toward Knives, she knew he wouldn't hurt her. Instead, it was directed toward the strange look that appeared in his eyes when he saw her back.

She was afraid of what he was going to tell her.

"How long, Meryl?" Knives asked.

"At least three weeks," Meryl admitted sheepishly. "I only noticed it when it started to itch."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Meryl attempted to push her gown back over her shoulders, only to be stopped by an unusually warm hand. "I- I didn't think it was anything at first."

"And now?" he pressed.

"I was afraid what you would have Conrad do to me," she said.

Knives' lips pressed together as his expression tightened, but he had no reply. His focus returned to her back. "Have you looked at it?"

"Of course I have," Meryl said.

"Do you know what it is?"

Meryl looked away from him and frowned. "No."

"Are you familiar with what dynamicytes are?"

"No."

"Dynam is Latin for power or strength," Knives explained as he moved his fingers across her shoulder blade again. His touch felt strangely like a caress and Meryl wasn't sure how to interpret the gesture. "Dynamicytes are the cells that essentially make a plant a plant. Or to be more precise, their existence is what makes a plant desirable for human use and consumption."

He eyed her for a moment, assessing her reaction. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and face pale. She was scared and she was probably right to be.

"There is a gland in all Angels called the Virona gland," he continued. "It's responsible for producing dynamicytes and regulating the metabolism of the Angel. The metabolism of the Angel is what unleashes the energy within those cells, which is what humans use for electricity. If too much energy is produced and unleashed over an extended period, it begins to damage the Virona gland. When the gland is damaged and no longer able to produce enough dynamicytes to keep up with the demand, the Hair Darkening Effect occurs as the Angel begins to consume its own body."

Meryl felt her throat tighten as he finished his explanation. "How...? What do these cells have to do with my rash?"

"Your skin reacts to my touch," he said. "The pain you felt are the dynamicytes in your blood reacting to me. The cells are coming from you."

Meryl looked at him incredulously. "Wha- no! H-how is that possible? I'm human!"

"Not quite."

"What the hell do you mean, 'not quite?!'" she demanded. "What are you trying to say?"

Knives smirked as he watched her change from being timid and uncertain to angry and rebellious. "I believe the seedling is changing you."

Meryl stared at him, her eyes searching his face as though hoping to find some sign that he was joking. Realizing that he was completely serious, her eyes filled with frustrated tears before she tore her gaze away.

"Your DNA structure was abnormal before you were brought here," he said, "but those abnormalities appeared to lay dormant under—"

"I know you're intelligent, Knives," she said, voice thick with anger and unshed tears. "And I know you think I have the IQ of a dog, but why don't you just answer the question outright? I can do without your long-winded explanations."

"Was I going too fast for you?"

Face flush with anger and a few tears spilling from her eyes, she said, "No. What you're doing is taking pleasure in my pain." Gritting her teeth, she squeezed her eyes shut as she attempted to reign in her anger. After a moment, she said, "Thanks to you, I don't know my own body anymore and instead of telling me why there are there dynamicytes in my blood you tell me that my DNA structure has always been abnormal." Lips curling into a fake smile that was painful to look at, she continued, "Well that's great, Knives! Wonderful! I suppose after this is all over you'll have Conrad vivisect me. Until then, can you try to not be an absolute monster? Just tell me why there are dynamicytes in my blood and what does it mean."

He was silent for a long moment, studying her. Then, "I don't know," he said, tone a bit more gentle. "You obviously don't have a Virona gland. At least, you don't have a Virona gland that is recognizable as one."

When she didn't immediately speak he added, "And I would never have Conrad vivisect you when a dissection would suffice."

"At least you'll wait until I'm dead before tearing me open," she murmured.

"I'd rather you not die at all," he said and Meryl's breath caught. "But I'd be quite curious to learn what a dissection could tell us."

In spite of herself, she laughed. The sound was brittle and without true humor, but the action released some of the tension building up inside her. Knives only watched her, the corner of his lip quirked upward as he waited for her next question. With a loud exhale, the brunette closed her eyes and tried to calm the storm of emotion within her.

"Are you sure they're coming from me?" she asked, tone even. "Can't these cells be coming from the baby?"

"Your circulatory system and the seedling's circulatory system do not intermingle directly," he said. "They can't be from the seedling."

"Like they can't be from me?" she asked.

"It is highly unlikely they are coming from the seedling," he amended. "Regardless, the rash on your back and your reaction to me is physical evidence of the presence of those cells in your blood. If you were able to unleash the energy within those cells, theoretically you would probably be able to grow wings, but I have my doubts about that."

Meryl felt herself begin to tremble as she stared at him. After a long contest of wills, she tore her eyes away from his as she swallowed back angry tears, her gaze dropping to her hands in her lap.

"Wings," she whispered, then scoffed. Then in a louder voice, she asked, "When you touched me what exactly did you do? It hurt."

"I channeled energy to my fingers," he said. "It should have felt like a static shock and nothing more. Your skin is still very sensitive there so the reaction was much stronger than I expected."

"Did you expect something like this to happen?"

"Not at all. In fact, there is no logical reason for it to be happening in the first place."

Knives continued to stand over her, waiting. For what, Meryl didn't know. Though his expression appeared neutral, his eyes were bright with something akin to joy, but she couldn't be certain. All she knew was that she didn't want to look at him. She didn't want him to be happy about this. She wanted to scream at him in anger and cry her eyes out in despair all at the same time. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mother.

The desire made her feel pathetic and small as she wondered if she was still technically human. Her parents were normal people. Her family, friends... she was no different. The fact that she was able to carry the seedling within her was just some strange genetic fluke. It didn't mean she was any less human, did it?

Still, the doubt had been planted in her mind and she felt afraid. The baby was growing unusually fast. She was only in her fifth month and already she appeared to be close to full-term. Granted, she was shorter than average so her belly would naturally stick out more, but that didn't explain how quickly her body had rounded. Wouldn't such a fast gestation harm her body? Hadn't Conrad and that nurse both made comments about how well she was doing, all things considered. She never thought about what they meant by that, but now...

Maybe there really was a reason she was doing so well. Maybe he was right.

"Knives, what... what am I?" Meryl asked, sotto voce.